Gardening

I also inherited Grandma Pat's love of gardening, but I'd like to think I'm a better cook. Not just because culinary times have changed but because I have half the number of mouths to feed each night—and considerably greater economic resources —than my grandmother did. Grandma Pat did terrible things to the produce Grandad Evan grew. Cauliflower and leeks regularly came a cropper in her pressure cooker. Scarlet runner beans were boiled until they were flaccid and grey. Marrows fit only for the compost heap were hacked into wedges, simmered to mush and smothered with white sauce. And as for broad beans? Grandma boiled them to buggery. My father was so scarred by his childhood experience of chewing through their rubbery skins and floury flesh that he made my mother vow, in a prenuptial agreement, never to cook them. Mum kept her word. Broad beans were banned from our home. I was an adult when I first encountered them, smashed with garlic, mint, lemon juice and feta on an Auckland cafe’s moreish bruschetta menu. Easy to grow and far easier to pod in family-sized quantities than peas, broad beans are a spring staple in my vegetable garden. Sown in autumn for spring feasting, or in spring for Christmas crops, they’re practically foolproof. The taller varieties, such as 'Aquadulce' and 'Exhibition Long Pod', require staking, but dwarf ‘Robin Hood’ grows only knee-high and is perfect for pots.

Broad beans are best eaten young, when the seeds inside their fleecy pods aren’t much bigger than peas. If you wait for the pods to fatten and mature, they need double-podding: steam the large seeds, refresh in ice cold water, then pop the fresh green seeds out of their rubbery skins. Serve with butter, salt and mint or, if you have some in your herb garden, summer savory. If, like my dad, you remain unconvinced of their edible charms, broad beans are still worth growing as a green manure or cover crop in empty vegetable beds. As a legume, they trap or ‘fix’ nitrogen in nodules on their roots, so when you dig the plants back into the ground, they act as a natural fertiliser as well as adding organic matter to your soil structure. Bees and bumblebees love broad beans too; their black and white flowers are an excellent early spring fodder crop for beneficial insects. Or sow ‘Hughey’ for colourful crimson flowers as well as plentiful pods. It’s the perfect ornamental variety for a showy spring potager.

Waikato born-and-raised gardening journalist Lynda Hallinan lives a mostly self-sufficient life at Foggydale Farm in the Hunua Ranges, where she grows enough food to satisfy her family, free-range chooks, kunekune pig and thieving pukekos. She has an expansive organic vegetable garden and orchards and is a madkeen pickler and preserver.

• Spring is a celebration of fresh-faced youth. It’s not too late to squeeze in a crop of crisp Florence fennel, celery, sugar snaps and broad beans. • Clear asparagus beds of weeds. Use a sharp knife to cut the spears off as they emerge, just under ground level. Now’s the time to sow asparagus seed in pots for planting out next spring. • Sow and plant fast-growing gap-fillers, such as baby spinach, bok choy, radishes, rocket and tatsoi. Transplant lettuce seedlings or sow mesclun seed mixes for salads. • Don't delay getting tender summer crops started. Sow tomato seeds, chillies and eggplants in a warm spot indoors but hold off until Labour weekend before transplanting these outdoors. Wait until then to sow cucumbers, zucchini and pumpkins directly where they are to be grown; if you're getting impatient, get on with preparing the soil by digging in compost and general garden fertiliser now. • If your citrus trees are looking yellow, don't panic and overdo the Epsom salts. Feed with specialist slow-release citrus fertiliser.

They'll perk up quickly as the weather warms up.

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